


The Agreement

by FlareWarrior



Series: Kinktober 2017 [12]
Category: Ocean's (Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Sounding, people who think they're communicating but aren't, rough-ish sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlareWarrior/pseuds/FlareWarrior
Summary: Danny will look at him and know when. It's something he's worked out after years of watching.





	The Agreement

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I wrote this like, a year ago. There's more later with feelings and better communication, but it's not finished yet and this stands alone ok.

They have an _agreement_.

Danny will look at him and know when. It's something he's worked out after years of watching.

Sometimes, Rusty needs to _not think_.

When he goes too long without, his hands start to shake and he gets too nervous to function. He's addicted, whether to the feeling or to Danny, he's not sure anymore.

Tonight is one of those nights. Danny's eyes had gone dark and intent at the waver in Rusty's voice. Now Rusty's hands were behind his back, tied there with silk rope Danny has stashed somewhere (he doesn't want to think he'd bought it just for this, but he also doesn't want to think of what else he could have bought it for), on his knees on the rough carpet of Danny's current upscale hotel.

"Look at me."

Rusty does as he's told and looks up.

Danny still has his suit on, though the bowtie is loose around his neck and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. In his right hand he's holding a glass of red wine like he's trying to project the image of some old-school James Bond, tilted to the side so the wine cuts an ellipse against the glass. He's got his cock in his left, not stroking anymore though he had been a few seconds before. His legs are spread to make room for Rusty between his knees, slouched low in the beige armchair and lit up by the dollar-store 60-wat bulb in the lamp on the desk behind him.

Danny takes his hand away and settles back.

"Now."

Rusty shivers and takes a breath, then leans forward and slides his lips around the head of Danny's cock.

The weight and taste are familiar now. He's working his way down Danny’s shaft in seconds, sucking and licking, sloppy in the way he knows Danny likes. He hears the soft clink of the wineglass being set down less carefully than it deserves at the same time Danny exhales, long and gusty.

"That's it," he says, his voice lower and rough. Calloused fingers card into Rusty's hair, guiding him forward further until it's almost too much, then back again.

"God you're beautiful."

Danny's weird when they do this. He says shit like that, says it with the same sureness he says everything, like he means it, and Rusty can't tell if he's lying. It sends a more shameful shiver down his spine than the orders ever do, and he's not sure he cares if it's the truth.

"What if I kept you like this all the time?" he goes on. "Naked on your knees, waiting for whatever I feel like giving you."

Another shiver, this one hard enough that the fabric of Danny's nicely-pressed pants rubs against his overheated skin.

Danny laughs breathlessly, his fingers tightening in Rusty's hair.

"You'd be perfect. But I'd never survive, I suppose, without you around to pull my ass out of the fire."

The hand in his hair slips down, no longer guiding, to settle on his cheek. Rusty thinks it's so he can feel what's happening to his dick, but his palm settles too lightly, his thumb running back and forth along Rusty's cheekbone rather than the hollow below.

"That's enough," He says a moment later, and Rusty pulls away to wait for the rest of his commands.

Danny spends half a second composing himself, and just like that he's back to charming smiles and lazy confidence.

"Stand up. Walk to the windows and wait."

With the taste of Danny still on his tongue, Rusty goes.

The windows in question span the better part of the outside wall of the suite. They're curtainless, but on the thirtieth floor it doesn't matter. Los Angeles shines out for miles in every direction, lightening the horizon artificially with its glow. He comes to stand before it without shame and watches his own reflection in the cold glass, upright, hair mussed and lips swollen, exposed with his arms tied behind him. His own body blocks the reflection of whatever Danny is doing. He hears a drawer being opened and shut, the deceptively fragile sound of metal clicking together, and then steady footsteps approach him.

"Turn around."

Rusty turns. Other than his only slightly undone suit and intense, dark eyes, Danny still looks relatively unruffled. He's tucked himself back in his pants, but the zip is down. He's watching Rusty intently, and he's got something in his hands Rusty's never seen before - a thin, cylindrical rod that thins at one end and curves into a wider ball at the other.

With steady confidence Danny reaches out and encircles Rusty's half-hard cock in a grip that's too light to be anything but business.

"You're going to hold still, and you're going to watch what I do to you. Understand?"

Rusty feels like all his strings have been cut with the way the command hits him. Shakily, he nods.

Danny smiles fondly and twirls the rod in his hands, drawing Rusty's attention down to where he's lightly holding his cock up. His hands curl into fists at his back when he realizes what's about to happen. He holds still.

The cold press of metal against the head of his dick still jolts him even though he's watching it happen. He watches as Danny's big hands line the rod up and distantly admires how delicate the metal looks in his grip. The slide in starts with a sharp pinch, even though now that he's looking, the rod is shiny with something too thick to be water. His shoulders go progressively tenser as Danny keeps a light grip on the other end and it starts to disappear inside him, his toes curling into the carpet under his feet as the spearing feeling slides deeper and deeper up his shaft. At the halfway point his eyes start to water and he feels like he's coming apart at the seams, and Danny's going so achingly slow and it's never going to be in all the way and then he whines low when it feels like it's slowed to a crawl -

" _Relax_."

Danny's tone is sharp and commanding. It cuts through the knot of tension in his chest, unravelling it so he can breathe again, still harsh and short, and before he can work himself up all over Danny starts to press the rod in further.

"Watch."

He opens his eyes and watches as silver disappears inside him, curling down with a shattered whine and fighting not to squirm in place. He blinks away the water from his eyes and the image of the last of the rod disappearing into his dick resolves itself into stark relief. All that's left is the round, silver ball at the end, warm from Danny's fingers and shining in the dim light.

Rusty throws his head back against the window, letting the cold of the glass seep through his hair to cool the feverish heat on his skin, and pants like he's just run a marathon, eyes squeezed shut and trembling.

One of Danny's hands comes up and slides along the tear-tracks on his cheeks to sink his fingers into the hair at the base of Rusty's neck, the other remaining gently on his throbbing, full cock.

"You did so good," Danny croons, dragging him down to capture his mouth in a heated kiss, wet and intense.

When Danny pulls away Rusty's left gasping for breath, even more so. His cock feels heavy in a way it never has. He's desperate for something, but he doesn't know what and Danny's still in no hurry at all. He kisses a trail down Rusty's neck and chest until he reaches the dip between his pecks, then slides over to capture one nipple in his mouth. Rusty gasps - he's not gentile, here, he bites just a hair shy of too hard and laves with too much pressure, and it makes Rusty's cock fill which, in turn, makes the rod feel _bigger_ \- like it's stretching too much and somehow not _enough_. Danny's free hand abuses his other nipple in equal measure, until he's flinching with every flick, and then he pulls away.

Rusty feels overstimulated, every move he makes seems to alert him to the thing inside him and he's starting to lose track of what's around him, starting to want to topple forward and cling to Danny until they can't separate.

"That's it. Turn around."

He starts to turn and Danny's hand tightens minutely on Rusty's cock. The action sends a shockwave mixture of pleasure and pain ricocheting along his nerves and he keens low in his throat.

"Be _careful_."

Sufficiently warned, Rusty turns with care, and Danny's hand stays right where it is. Once he's facing the window again, shivering and strung wire-tight, Danny shoves him forward with his other hand. His chest collides with the glass and he shouts at the chill that bites into his raw nipples.

At some point while he's reeling, the binding on his hands comes free. Rusty's hands fly to the glass to brace himself, fingers curling against the hard, unforgiving surface. Danny's fingers close around his right hand and guide it down to where he's still holding his cock upright to keep the rod in.

"Hold yourself up for me, gorgeous," he whispers in Rusty's ear.

The city outside blurs through the fog his breath creates against the glass. Danny's hand disappears, leaving Rusty to follow his orders, and a second later Danny presses flush against his back. Rusty feels the blunt press of Danny's thick cock against his entrance and shifts his feet apart for it, past the point of begging. He's already open from earlier, when Danny told him to prep himself before tying his hands, still wet and lose. The head of Danny's cock pushes in easily and the rest follows. Hot hands settle on Rusty’s hips, burning like brands against his skin while Danny's body presses all along his back, lips skimming his neck and tracing his hairline. The contrast of hot and cold and the nearly unbearable fullness is overwhelming. Danny draws back, draws out enough that Rusty can miss the shaky feeling it gives him, and then thrusts in a just the right angle - that turns out to be more than that. Rusty arches from the friction against his prostate, but he screams from the way the jolt makes the thin shaft of metal inside him move.

Danny's saying something that he can't focus enough to hear, murmuring something sweet probably, the way he always does, soothing and soft, and Rusty lets the sound wrap around him even as he lets himself let go.

Danny keeps a slow, deep pace, kissing along his shoulders, talking low and haltingly. At some point his hand slips around to Rusty's cock, takes hold of the ball at the tip and _pulls_ , not far, just far enough to push it back _in_ and Rusty can't find the will to scream the way he wants to but he somehow climbs even higher. Danny does it again and everything goes fuzzy. He's aware that Danny still has his fingers on the rod's end and is still moving it in and out in a slower parody of the movement of his hips, and that Danny is inside him, and that the window glass is cold, but it all seems beneath him aside from the fact that Danny is _everywhere_ and nothing else matters.

Danny shudders behind him and presses close, and the next thing he knows he's sitting on the floor with his legs out in front of him and his back pressed to Danny's chest.

"Breathe," Danny's saying, and Rusty does it unconsciously, doesn't even wince when the rod slides out of his cock.

"Let me-"

Rusty doesn't say anything, but he never seems to have to with Danny.

"No? Are you sure?"

He turns, bleary and hyper-sensitive, to mouth along Danny's jaw. Danny's arms encircle his chest, strong and warm.

"Okay," he says, and cradles the back of his head gently to kiss him.

Later, Danny tumbles them into his bed and they sleep.

Rusty makes sure he's gone in the morning. After all, they have an agreement.


End file.
